


Like It Never Happened

by Zen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Porn, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Past Underage Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zen/pseuds/Zen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It used to drive him crazy, make him angry, and break his heart, but now he thought that there were advantages to it being like this between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like It Never Happened

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to Renenet for her meticulous and thoughtful Beta.

Sam was almost asleep when he felt the air over his bed shift, and then the mattress dipped behind him. He was on his side, and he smiled to himself as he felt Dean sliding into bed behind him. It always happened like this, only happened like this, and had been happening like this since Sam was in high school. When it started all those years ago, Dean had made it perfectly clear that if Sam ever tried to talk about it, ever acknowledged in the tiniest way that it happened at all, it would never happen again.

It used to drive him crazy, make him angry, and break his heart, but now he thought that there were advantages to it being like this between them. With these rules in place, it meant that Sam got more from Dean than he ever would have if they’d had something resembling a real relationship. The denial gave them both a strange sort of freedom. He knew that Dean did and said things he never would do with Sam if Dean felt he’d be accountable in any way. It was like a safe place that existed outside of and apart from time and real life. These dark, stolen moments in motel rooms had shown Sam the depth of Dean’s love for him, the limitless capacity his brother had for tenderness and affection.

Dean’s arm wrapped around him as he felt Dean spooning up behind him. Hot breath on his neck gave Sam goosebumps, and then the feeling of Dean’s nose and mouth nuzzling into his hair warmed him deep in his bones. Dean wrapped an arm tightly around Sam, burying his nose in the hair at the back of Sam's neck and breathing in deep lungfuls of his scent. For all Dean’s bitching and teasing about the length of Sam’s hair, it was in moments like these that Sam learned how much Dean really loved it.

He slid his hand up to intertwine his fingers with Dean’s and gently tilted his head back, returning the nuzzle as he hummed out a happy, quiet sound of encouragement. Sometimes they’d go months without one going to the other like this. But when things were bad, like they had been lately, more often than not one of them silently crawled into bed with the other after all the goodnights had been said and the lights turned out. Tonight it had only taken Dean ten or fifteen minutes before he was coming to Sam, and it had been happening like this almost every night. Sam wasn’t sure who needed this more, him or Dean, but in the end that didn’t really matter. They needed each other, always had and always would, and that was all that really mattered.

The heat of Dean’s open-mouthed kisses along the back of his neck pulled Sam out of his thoughts, saved him from too much contemplation.

“Stop thinking, brainiac,” Dean half whispered half chuckled next to his ear, because one thing Sam could always count on was Dean knowing him inside and out.

Sam smiled, felt comforted and loved by the teasing jibe more than a term of endearment could ever do. He turned over, wrapped his arms around Dean, and buried his face in Dean’s neck on instinct, something he’d been doing since they were little kids. It wasn’t as easy now that he was so much taller than Dean, but Sam scooted down enough that he fit perfectly. Dean buried one of his hands in the back of Sam’s hair, the other wrapped around Sam’s back and held him tight. For a few minutes, Sam was transported back in time. A time before hormones and sex and all the endless troubles of the world. A time when the only world he wanted to know was the one right here, being held safely in his big brother’s arms, snuggled into the crook of Dean’s neck.

After a while, though, Dean’s gentle stroking through his hair and soft kisses against his temple made it impossible for Sam to ignore his libido. The gentle kisses Dean was pressing along Sam’s hairline lingered, as though his mouth was reluctant to leave Sam’s skin. Sam couldn’t resist any longer, so he pulled his face from Dean’s neck and caught Dean’s lips with his own. They traded slow, indulgent kisses back and forth. The way Dean was stroking and petting Sam’s face as they kissed fed the passion growing deep inside Sam. He loved to revel in the affectionate gestures Dean showered on him on nights like this, but his patience for the slow pace faded quickly tonight. He slid up a little, pulling one leg over Dean’s as he ground their hips together.

Instantly, Dean threw his head back, his eyes rolling shut as he let out a long sighing “ahhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Dean was on his back, his neck arching perfectly for Sam to lean in and take a long, sucking bite of it. He felt Dean buck underneath him and two strong hands clamped down on Sam’s ass, clutching and squeezing.

“Yeah, Sammy, yeah,” he encouraged, making Sam smile.

Sam loved getting this much reaction from Dean, having Dean so vocal and willing. So willing that all he had to do was reach down and tug at Dean’s t-shirt and Dean’s hands left Sam’s ass to quickly pull the t-shirt off. Then, just as fast, his hands were right back on Sam. As Sam made a feast of Dean’s flesh, licking, sucking and biting his way across Dean’s chest, he let himself be smug with the knowledge that _no one_ got to have Dean like this but him. No matter how many one night stands, how many flings and hook ups Dean might have, Sam knew that he was the only person that Dean would ever share this much of himself with. Feeling a need to lay a claim, Sam paused on Dean’s right pec, and attached his mouth, sucking and sucking until he was sure he’d left a dark mark on Dean’s pale skin.

When he pulled back to admire his work, Dean’s hands left his ass and slid up his back to gently hold his shoulders.

“My turn,” Dean practically purred at Sam, slowly but determinedly rolling them over and pulling Sam’s t-shirt off of him. “No more clothes, Sammy.”

Dean pushed Sam's boxers down, and Sam helped kick them off when they got low enough. Dean’s were next, and then Dean stretched himself out on top of Sam. His hands skimmed over Sam’s skin, reverence in his touch, so much care taken with each swipe of his hands that it made Sam arch up into the touch. He could never get enough of the feel of Dean’s hands on his body. He wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes, but he made himself open them, so he could watch Dean’s face.

Dean was completely focused on watching his hands caress Sam’s body. His thumb dragged over Sam’s hardened nipple, and as soon as Sam gasped, Dean smiled. He did it a couple more times, making a happy humming sound as he watched Sam arch up into the touch. Sam could feel Dean’s dick twitch against his own, and not for the first time he was amazed at the amount of control Dean had over his own needs, his ability to ignore his own desire and focus all his attention on pleasing Sam, making Sam feel good. While his hands continued to map out Sam's body, Dean leaned down and began kissing Sam.

It started with small, soft kisses over and over, and it felt as if Dean was feeding his kisses to Sam’s mouth. They made him dizzy, made him swoon, and Sam would swear that Dean was the only person who had _ever_ made him swoon. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Sam reached up and held the back of Dean’s head, held Dean’s mouth against his, and deepened the kiss. He pulled Dean’s tongue into his mouth and curled his own around it. It went on and on, give and take, and they only paused for the absolute need to breathe. Things were getting slick between their bodies now, their hips keeping up a slow hump and grind against each other. Sam’s hands roamed back and forth across Dean’s shoulders, his back, his ass, fingers finding every familiar plane and curve of muscle and flesh. It was habitual, it was safe, it was home, it was _Dean_. He thought it must make Dean feel the same, because he’d been sighing out these long, exaggerated “Sam”s since his hands started their journey across Dean’s skin.

Dean leaned in and nuzzled his face against Sam’s, and then slid down Sam’s body, licking and kissing. He didn’t stop until he had the tip of Sam’s dick in his mouth, and then he looked up at Sam, locking eyes with him for just a moment. In that moment, Sam understood it all. How much Dean loved him, how much he needed this, how much the three words ‘Sam and Dean’ really meant… three of the most powerful words in the Universe. He also understood why Dean always had his rules about this thing between them. All the evil in the universe knew that the Winchesters were their own weak spots -- just think how much more power they would have if they knew about this. Yeah, as much as Sam has hated the compartmentalism and secretive nature of this part of their relationship, he finally understood it. Or, at least he understood it better than he did before.

Dean flicked his tongue back and forth over the tip of Sam’s dick, making all thoughts stop, making Sam moan and thrust up into Dean’s mouth, and making Dean moan and smile around Sam’s cock. Then it was all wet and slip, slide, suck and Dean taking every inch of Sam down his throat, reducing Sam’s entire existence to where they were connected. Sam never took his eyes off of Dean, propping himself up on an elbow at an angle that should have been awkward, although Sam hardly noticed. Sam held out as long as he could, not wanting any of this to end. He knew what was going to be his undoing, and it always amazed him. Soon, Dean came all over Sam’s leg, never once having touched himself, and not missing a beat in his world-class sucking of Sam’s dick. It was the single hottest thing Sam had ever seen, and as soon as it happened he was coming in Dean’s mouth. Dean gulped it all down, and then collapsed over Sam’s legs, his head on Sam’s hip, a sweet weight grounding Sam to earth when he felt like he could float up to the heavens.

Sam didn’t know how many minutes later it was when Dean pulled himself up and off of Sam, went to the bathroom, and came back with a warm, wet washcloth. He gently and carefully cleaned every last bit of his come off of Sam’s leg. Then Dean came up to the head of the bed, his warm, dry hand cupping Sam’s face as he slowly kissed Sam for the last time that night. Without a word, Dean tossed the washcloth on the bathroom sink and got into his own bed. Within minutes Sam could hear Dean’s breathing fall into the steady rhythm of sleep. Sam used to fall asleep dreading the morning after nights like these, but tonight he did not. Tonight he fell asleep with a small smile on his face, a deeper understanding of why Dean did what he did, and an absolute certainty that his brother loved him more than anything in this universe, or any other, and that that love was completely and totally mutual. That was why it was okay that tomorrow, when they woke up, it would be like it never happened.

The End


End file.
